Part two tonight!
Quote of note:
Lawmakers would not allow the film of Johnson's victory to show the decisive knockout of Burns -- it stops as Burns is falling, yet again, to the mat. In quick order, Congress would also bar the interstate shipment of fight films, worrying that Johnson's humiliating domination of white opponents would further race riots and embolden the black community.
Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight champion of the world, never had much trouble in the ring. He often toyed with his opponents, like a big bear swatting around cubs, and many boxing historians consider him the greatest heavyweight boxer ever.
No, where Johnson faced his fiercest fight was out of the ring, in American society, where racism fueled his payback for being the white world's worst nightmare: a black man who beat white fighters with ease, slept with and married white women with frequency, drove fast cars and flashed cash. In an era when the lynching of blacks averaged about 150 a year, Jack Johnson was audacious in his independence.
"Unforgivable Blackness: The Rise and Fall of Jack Johnson," which chronicles the fighter's career beginning at the start of the 1900s, is yet another sterling documentary from Ken Burns. The film, which airs on PBS tonight and Tuesday (9 p.m., KQED), once again provides Burns with a subject matter that is not only compelling, but revealing about our country and how it was forged -- longtime Burns hallmarks.
"Johnson in many ways is an embodiment of the African American struggle to be truly free in this country -- economically, socially and politically," says Burns in the film's press material. "He absolutely refused to play by the rules set by the white establishment, or even those of the black community. In that sense, he fought for freedom not just as a black man, but as an individual."
Johnson had individuality down pat. He began boxing early and, by 18, he was roaming the country, making money in cheap fights. He loved the road. It freed him from his Galveston, Texas, roots, where he was raised by parents who were both former slaves.
He would have none of the notion that blacks should try to fit in and get by. As he won more and more fights, Jack Johnson decided he would get his. The money came in, the prostitutes piled up, the cars got fancier and white America tried to ignore him. When John L. Sullivan became the first heavyweight champion of the world in the late 19th century, the title captured the imagination of the culture. It was the zenith of the sport, but also a racial marker.
Lawmakers would not allow the film of Johnson's victory to show the decisive knockout of Burns -- it stops as Burns is falling, yet again, to the mat. In quick order, Congress would also bar the interstate shipment of fight films, worrying that Johnson's humiliating domination of white opponents would further race riots and embolden the black community.
As the Broadway play and film will attest, a desperate America went on a search for the next "Great White Hope" to beat Johnson. It was futile. Finally, hounded out of retirement by white society, Jim Jeffries -- the undefeated former champ and people's favorite -- returned to the ring to fight Johnson. It was a monumentally important bout, held in Reno on July 4, 1910, and it was a rout from start to finish, as Johnson bloodied Jeffries and finally forced a stop to the fight in the 15th round. Jeffries later admitted that he couldn't have beaten Johnson in his prime, nor even gotten close to the man.
The fall of Jack Johnson is as predictable as it is sad. Unable to beat him in the ring, the government went after him on several different fronts, finally using the Mann Act -- outlawing the interstate transportation of women "for the purpose of prostitution or debauchery, or for any other immoral purpose" -- to get Johnson.
He couldn't beat up the white man and get the white woman, too.
